Aunt Jane knew the home.... The father and mother drunk, perhaps. The child had been broken, between them, and had come to the House of Mercy for repairs.... She held her in her arms and rocked a little--and thought.... Something must be done to protect the child.... Dr. Carmon must do something. He always did things--if he had to. Aunt Jane rocked back and forth, thinking. She must take him when he was in good humor--to-morrow morning perhaps. The child raised her hand to Aunt Jane's face. "You don't smile!" she said imperiously. Aunt Jane looked down at her severely. The child laughed out, and nestled close and presently they were playing a game. It was not a new game in the ward; other children played it sometimes. But you were only allowed to play it if you had been very ill and were getting well; or perhaps if you were going home--day after to-morrow, and father and mother might be drunk and might break tables and chairs--and perhaps a child's arm if it got in the way of their playfulness.... The game was to catch Aunt Jane off guard and take off her spectacles and cap--and see how she looked. The child reached up a quick hand and laughed.... Aunt Jane dodged and shook her head, and escaped the hand. And then--perhaps because Susie was going home day after to-morrow--she had caught off the spectacles and Aunt Jane's cap lay on the floor and the hair was escaping from its pins and coming down all about her face and shoulders--and the child was lying back against her arm, looking at her and laughing happily. The door from the corridor swung silently, and Dr. Carmon stood looking into the room. The children in the beds turned merry eyes to him. But his hand made a gesture and they held their breath, laughing as he came down between the beds and stood looking sternly at the figure in the big chair. Aunt Jane was groping at the tumbled hair and she was laughing gently, watching the child's face. Then she looked up---- "Mercy sakes!" Her hand reached for her cap. But Dr. Carmon had bent to the floor and picked up the cap. He was holding it and looking at her. "How old are you, Aunt Jane?" he said sternly. Aunt Jane, out of the maze of her hair, looked up. "I am forty-five years old," she said. "Give me my cap!" "Say, 'please,'" said Dr. Carmon gravely, holding it at arm's length. From the beds, the children looked on with shining eyes. Aunt Jane looked at the cap--and at the child in her arms--and felt the eyes encircling her--and smiled a little. "Please," she said meekly, and her hand reached up. But Dr. Carmon held it still at arm's length. "Say, 'please, Frederic,'" he insisted.... Not even the nearest bed could have guessed the words that went with the laughing gesture of the hand holding the cap. But Aunt Jane's face flushed swiftly.